who is this girl he sees
by GingerGleek
Summary: Cherry oneshot. Rated T to be safe. / He's never seen her dance like this, ever; never seen her bare her soul to the world so completely, be one with the music the way she is now. She's always been this kind of enigma.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee; I do not profit from this._

_Rated T to be safe._

_A/N: Been going through all my started-and-forgotten-fics, and stumbled across this half-finished. I don't remember where I intended to go with it when it was started, but this is what I came up with now._

_Just some Cherry goodness, because I have this little fantasy in my head where they are adorable together._

_I hope you enjoy!_

_-0-0-_

He's half-dressed in the guy's locker room of the only dance studio in Lima, Ohio when he hears the music start to play. First his ears kind of perk up, because he thinks he recognizes the song from somewhere … but then he's straining to hear it, focusing on it, because he can't for the life of him remember where he knows it from.

He grabs his bag and his T-shirt and follows the music to the room his experienced hip hop class vacated only a few minutes ago.

He's not sure what he expects to see. Their instructor Tracy, perhaps, experimenting with a song; but it's a little too soft and slow for her or for the class, he thinks. Maybe a janitor, dancing with a mop or broom and reminiscing days long gone by; when they were a dancer themselves, before a tragic injury during a routine at competition brought an abrupt end to their budding and hopeful career …

(Yeah, Mike's got a very active imagination.)

But whatever he expects to come across, Rachel Berry is not it.

He saw her leaving the class when it was over, chatting with a couple of the girls that she's friendly with. (Nobody here hates her or looks down on her the way everyone at McKinley does – she's actually pretty cool with most of them – but she seems to keep to herself in their shared weekly hip hop lesson. He's not sure why, exactly, because he's seen her around in her many other classes, even the few for kids that she teaches, and she's outgoing and almost always laughing at something or another; a lot more free and loose than he's ever seen her at school – even in Glee. He kind of admires the way she is at the studio; open, and happy, and adorable …) Anyway, he saw her leave, but now she's back.

She's back, and she's dancing. Dancing to … well, he's still not sure what this is. But at least now he knows why it seems familiar. He heard it coming from the auditorium the other day, when he was passing by the doors at the back on his way to meet up with Matt after his math class.

He guesses she must have been up on stage doing what she's doing now, stepping out an impressively choreographed and astoundingly performed routine on the meticulously waxed and polished wooden floor of the large studio room.

He's seen a lot of amazing dancers. For a small town, they actually have quite a few of them. There's Brittany, for example; when watching her, one can't help but want to get up and dance too. (At least, that's how he feels; but he just liked to dance in general, so maybe not everyone feels like that. It's certainly quite the show to watch, though.) So it's not like he's never seen a phenomenal dancer in action before. (He likes to think that maybe, just maybe, he's on his way to being one.)

But watching Rachel is different. He can't say for sure that she's the best he's ever seen, but he can say that it's the first time someone else's dancing has made him feel quite like this on the inside. As he's watching her he can't help but feel like he's privileged. He's never seen her dance like this, ever; never seen her bare her soul to the world so completely, be one with the music the way she is now (not even listening to her sing, and that's definitely an experience in itself).

It's the visual representation of how he feels inside when he dances, and he can't help but be amazed as he watches her.

She's always been this kind of this enigma.

Sometimes she seems like an open book, as if one can know everything about her in one glance; but he's learned that she's really the opposite. One can look at her and see so much, but none of it is really _her_. She keeps herself locked away underneath layers upon layers of façade and false bravado. He's pretty sure that the closest he's come to seeing her – _really_ seeing her – is times like this: when she's singing or dancing.

This girl he sees now; Rachel, the real Rachel … he honestly isn't sure what to think of her.

There's still so much he can't claim to know. Hell, he's barely had five conversations with her in his life, after all. But the girl in front of him is not what he ever expected of Rachel Berry, that's for sure. She always projects a confidence, even when covered head to toe in slushie, but this girl is undoubtedly vulnerable. And hurting, if the edgy timbre of the slow song playing and the lone tear glimmering on her cheek as she strikes her end pose are any indication.

She stays still as the final refrains of music float out through the stereo speakers, eyes closed.

He slowly brings his hands up from where they'd been hanging uselessly by his side to clap.

Her head snaps up faster than he thought possible, eyes opening and widening in alarm. When she sees him, her cheeks quickly take on a pink tinge and she ducks her head. "Did you want the room?" she asks him, still embarrassed, turning and unplugging her iPod before placing it into her tote bag. "I was just leaving," she murmurs, trying to walk past him. He places a hand on her arm, stopping her.

"No," he says, "I was just leaving too when I heard the music and decided to come see what it was. That was amazing, Rachel; really awesome."

"Thank you," she says, blushing again and taking a step into the hallway. His bright smile is contagious. He follows suit and they head toward the front door, nodding simultaneously in goodbye to Tracy as she passes them with a smile. "It's just a little something I've been working on sporadically for the past couple of weeks."

"Cool."

They step outside into the cool night air. She pulls out a cell phone from her bag and begins dialing as he pulls out his car keys from his jeans pocket.

"You need a ride?"

She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, surprised by the offer, but he just smiles at her again until she returns it, nodding and thanking him shyly.

She intrigues him. So different from her usual persona she is tonight; so shy and humble. He wants to understand her, he's decided. To hear why she seems to switch between multiple personalities … to get what makes her tick.

He doesn't know if she'll let him in. He likes to think that he's a pretty trustworthy guy, and she used to seem like such a trusting person … he thinks that Finn really messed her up, though; when they were together, and when it ended. But he'll fix that.

He's going to get to know Rachel Berry; somehow, someway … someday.

_-0-0-_

_Please, pretty please with a cherry on top, review!_


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